The Brightest Summer
by Exceeds Expectations
Summary: Nymphadora Tonks was a lady of impulse. She jumped into action without a second of hesitation. She lived for this, for fighting and for winning. The thrill of victory scorched her veins like the summer sun. Summer was her favourite season.


Nymphadora Tonks was a lady of impulse.

With a silver-quickened heart and a flyaway sigh, she jumped into action without a second of hesitation. She lived for this, for fighting and for _winning_. The thrill of victory scorched her veins like the summer sun.

(Summer was her favourite season because it made it easier for her to run through grassy fields under open skies and find the tiny flowers hidden from her sights.)

**-x-**

She married Remus in June.

The sun burned his neck as he bent to kiss her under the sporadic shade of a leafy oak tree.

"You're beautiful," he'd whispered.

"You're alright, I suppose," she'd replied. She was rewarded with the ticklish breath of his laughter on her lips.

_And here we are, _she'd thought_, finding everything in a time of loss._

**-x-**

She flew with the Phoenix in July.

Ron's arms were tight around her stomach and she knew he was just as terrified as she was. They dodged and ducked as colours soared overhead, but the lights burned her retinas for hours after.

There were shouts and screams and Ron's arms released her. She could still feel him there, behind her, and now his voice joined the many that yearned for triumph. There was a familiar burning in her veins and then

"AVADA KED-"

"STUPEFY!"

-and his hands were back around her, his voice pleading with her.

"Tonks! Tonks, are you-"

"I'm fine, Ron! I'm ok!"

And they'd flown the rest of the way in terrified (thrilling) silence; Ron fighting to keep the anxiety in his stomach; Tonks wishing she was confident enough on a broom to turn around, stand up and battle to the death.

**-x-**

She fought with them in August.

It was supposed to be a happy occasion, a wedding. Bill was handsome and sophisticated, Fleur was beautiful as always and Tonks was bored.

Remus and Arthur were huddled in a corner, discussing Muggle legends involving werewolves, and Molly was running around making sure that everything was going to plan. Various Order members danced (badly) in front of her. She was happy here.

Tonks smiled around at everyone. She was deliriously happy, horribly and scared and one hundred percent pregnant. It was too early to tell people though, and so she laughed to herself and rested her hand on her stomach and thought of a future in which she held a tiny Remus.

_"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

And all hell broke loose. People were running, screaming; there were hands pulling at her in all directions and suddenly, thank God, there was Remus. His voice was hoarse and rough as he roared and there were people _pop_ping away around them. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a flash of deepest black. Spinning on her heel, wand in her hand, she spit hex after jinx after curse.

There was a hum of excitement in her stomach and a smile on her lips because,_ oh, it's been too long._

But it was over too soon and she had deep gashes in her left arm and blood staining her dress robes, but dear God, that was worth it. The sweet taste of success coated her insides once more.

His voice was clipped and short in her ear.

"No more of this. I can't lose you. I can't lose the baby. Please."

She said yes, of course she did, but she never really meant it. The thrill was too much.

**-x-**

They hid during winter and fought when the night sky drowned the stars. When the spring came, she remembered three children with fading smiles and heavy burdens and her heart sank. His fingers traced the swell of her stomach and for one fleeting moment - everything was going to be alright.

She cast her mind back to sunny days and a flowing white dress and blooming flowers, feeling the sun on her skin and a smile on her face. It was beautiful, unpredictable.

It was the best summer she'd ever had. Fitting really, that it was the last summer she'd ever see.

The beginning of May saw her final battle. And, my dear, how sweet it felt to be coming home when summer sun sung victory in the sky.


End file.
